


Paper Talk

by Good_Grief



Series: The Chatterbox [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Fluffyfest, Itama shows up, Kawarama shows up, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29790747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Good_Grief/pseuds/Good_Grief
Summary: “I wanted to borrow a scrap of paper, a nice one, to make a card.”Mito turns to face him then, as Hashirama usually has little interest in making his own cards, preferring instead to ask her. “Who are you making this card for?”“Why our good friends Madara and Tobirama of course,” and his expression has turned from cheerful to downright glee. “One can never know when they will decide to disclose their relationship to us.”Mito knows Hashirama, she knows that he’s always been far more intuitive than anybody has ever given him credit for. It’s just in this case (and many other cases) his love and care for the people involved outweigh his discretion.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara, Senju Touka/Uchiha Izuna
Series: The Chatterbox [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989172
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	Paper Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty much due to Popular Demand(TM): this is a direct sequel to Pillow Talk (the first story in this series). 
> 
> However since it’s rated M and this is T, there is very little relevant information that you can’t gather from the story by itself. Pillow Talk follows Tobirama around and Paper Talk follows Mito, but they all do interact so I’ve tagged the pairs that are present as pairs.
> 
> Also no promises on my editing job

**Paper Talk**

  
  


Winter comes in like an uninvited guest and shoves it’s foot firmly in the door. The frost lingers, the cold bites, and the snow falls frequently enough that it gathers up in the corners of windows and outlines the footprints in shoes. The season certainly isn’t welcomed by all, and it sets in as if to stay longer than it’s supposed to. Hashirama droops visibly as the days grow shorter, and brightens as they begin to lengthen again, and yet, winter lingers despite the solstice having come and gone. 

“It’s an unusual year,” Mito says. 

Hashirama smiles widely, crinkles just beginning to crease in the corners of his eyes, it’s the smile that Mito likes the best. “I’m so glad we finished the greenhouse in time, our garden will be fine until summer underneath here,” he gestures openly to the foliage surrounding him. The light beams across his long chestnut hair and shines like spun gold. “Even if we cannot convince Tobirama to come see it.” 

“I’ve met cats more agreeable than Tobrirama,” Mito quips, but it’s true and even Hashirama laughs at the notion. 

“No, I think even Tobirama might agree with the notion of that expression,” Hashirama agrees, “this place is perfect though and that won’t stop me from trying to get him to come over and see it.” 

“Well,” Mito returns the smile, half as bright and twice as sly, “if I think of something that might help with that, I will let you know.” When she steps closer she finds his tie is out of place and there is dirt on the edges of his cuffs. She can do nothing about the dirt now, or they will be late to work, so instead she fixes his collar straight, centers his tie, and leans up to brush a kiss against his lips. It’s a light kiss, his lips are dry and chapped with the season, but that’s to be expected. 

“We don’t have time,” she sighs, as he leans down to follow her. 

“I know,” he says, stealing another kiss, “but I don’t care.” 

She swats at him playfully, but insists loudly about the time until they are bundled up and out the door. 

<3

The weather doesn’t get any better by the weekend, and by then Hashirama is almost drooping like a wilted flower in the cold. Mito takes action and wakes him up on Saturday morning by rudely stealing his blankets to wear as a cape and stroll around the room until he deems himself too cold to stay in bed and sleepily follows her right under the spray of a hot shower. 

They share the warmth, sliding around each other in a dance of familiarity. Hashirama leans forward over her shoulder to reach the shampoo, his hand on her hip and his chest up against her back. The warmth he radiates keeps her from getting chilled as he blocks the spray of the water with his much greater height. They don’t speak out loud, but small touches convey when they need to switch places, and Hashirama is sleepy enough to let Mito help get all the conditioner out of his hair. 

<3

“Madara works today, at the cafe, I mean,” Mito says as she picks out her clothes for the day, “they have hot chocolate.” 

If there’s anything that can get Hashirama out of his hibernation streak, it’s hot chocolate and being surrounded by company. Perhaps she should give Kawarama a call…

“It’s Saturday too, so Tobirama will be there,” Hashirama perks up. 

It seems her plans for the day are set, Tobirama is typically elusive and avoids Hashirama when he can. If he’s become so predictable that Hashirama no longer needs to call him to know his plans, well, then he deserves to be found. 

“Is he there then every Saturday?” Mito asks, taking the time to wind her hair up out of the way into twin buns on the top of her head. 

Hashirama prefers to let his hair flow freely to his waist, and is instead searching for a hat and scarf that don’t clash _too_ horribly. 

He hums, holding up a rich plum hat to a magenta scarf, “like clockwork.” 

“Take the green scarf, it will look better,” there’s a rustling as he takes her advice and renews his search for outerwear. She pauses for a moment, a stray thought passing through her mind. It's perhaps odd that Tobirama and Madara can be found so frequently in the same location, but perhaps They were better friends than she first thought. 

<3

The shopfront window has changed once again, this time decorated for the dead of winter, the festives giving way to sugar spun in the shape of snowflakes, as delicate as glass and reflecting the light like crystal. Tobirama can be found in his usual spot, but Madara is behind the counter. Mito is greeted with a polite nod, but Hashirama receives a slight grimace. “Sugar water?” He asks. 

“Oh yes. You know me so well,” Hashirama beams.

Madara is mostly immune to the effects by now and just nods in resignation. Mito orders herself a tea and leaves Hashirama to catch up with Madara as she looks for the quiet spot that Tobirama favours. 

“You’re beginning to blend in with the furniture you know,” She says as she slips off her felt coat and hat and places them out of the way on the chair backs. 

Tobirama has his sunglasses sitting upside down on the table, a testament to how bright it is as he usually avoids them if he can. His book is flipped open, fingerprints poised among the bumps. Books printed in Braille are expensive and hard to come by, so she assumes it’s something personal. Usually he has books in extra large print, although she hopes eventually he’ll cave to technology and just get a tablet and a screen reader. His vision is good enough that it would mostly be supplemental, but she’s always been much less traditional. 

“There is nothing wrong with being comfortable with familiarity,” Tobirama shifts to slide his books out of the way. “Besides, here I can leave anytime, instead of waiting for my guests to get uncomfortable about my lack of seating arrangements.” 

Mito smiles, toothy and like a fox, “Ah yes, a real inconvenience to order a piece of furniture right to your door. You could even get the kind that folds and can be stored in a closet —no assembly required.” 

“If you want to solve a problem, you first have to admit to having one Mito, and my apartment is currently perfect.” 

Hashirama has finished picking up the order and carts it over to the table tucked into elbows and balanced precariously. “Sorry, it’s really busy over there right now, and I think Madara is stuck here all by himself.”

“Kagami has been known to oversleep,” Tobirama nods to himself. 

Mito’s steaming mug of hot tea is the first thing Hashirama puts on the table, followed by a small plate of croissants and an elaborate hot chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles. There’s a small plate with a muffin that he untucks from where he had folded it up under the crook of his elbow and places in front of Mito when he sits down. It’s dark with a tiny peppering of some sort of berries and seeds, but she didn’t order it. 

The mystery is quickly solved when Tobirama reaches across the table, and claims the muffin as his. He must have ordered it earlier, as his coffee is still full and waited for them, Hashirama calls him frequently so she is sure that it’s no surprise. 

“Wasn’t Touka supposed to be here?” Hashirama asks, looking around as if he thought she would appear out of thin air. 

“No, she’s busy for a couple weeks, took a vacation, shoved all her stuff in the car and took off.” 

“She met someone, didn’t she?” Mito asks, it’s basically Touka’s tradition to haul anyone she thinks might work for her across Fire Country just to see if they can keep up and not kill each other. Frankly Mito thinks that anyone who makes it without her trying to kill them is dead crazy, but then she probably isn’t exactly looking for somebody _sane._ Sanity is not going to help anyone pass her first date initiation of part road trip and part survival exercise. 

Tobirama nods, “Yes, but I haven’t seen them together so I don’t know what the odds are like if you want to take bets on that.”

“So you do know who it is?” Mito asks. 

Hashirama has finished picking the whip cream off of his hot chocolate and seems to selectively tune in when the conversation gets interesting. “Well, if she took them with her the odds are probably fifty-fifty that they’ll stick around. Wait—you do know who it is?” 

Tobirama shrugs, “I know how they met, and that’s about it. I’ve never seen them together.” 

“That’s an unfair advantage,” Hashirama pouts. 

“Only if we are taking bets,” Mito pats his knee gently under the table to console him. “Which we aren’t, because Tobirama has an unfair advantage.” 

Hashirama nods gravely, “true, plus asking her if it went well or not could go… less than stellar really.” 

They all nod and fall into comfortable silence while they enjoy the warm retreat from the bitter cold outside. There’s a kerfuffle when someone bursts through the door apron in hand, shouting apologies and leaping over the counter. 

“Kagami,” Tobirama chuckles without even glancing over. 

“The student?” Mito asks, putting a name to a face at last. 

She gets a nod and a reply, “his family owns the place, probably the only reason Madara hasn’t fired him yet.” 

“Oh!” Hashirama pipes up beside her, his whole body tensing with his excitement, if ever there was a man to embody the phrase about wearing your heart on your sleeve, Hashirama could be said to exceed expectations. “It could just be that Madara is a very patient person.” 

Mito turns to look at him in surprise, but it’s Tobirama who answers first. “No,” he says, “I don’t think that’s it.” 

His tone and his expression are just a slight off thought, and Mito can’t quite place it. The expression is stern and annoyed but his voice is almost... _fond._ Maybe they are friends after all. 

Mito’s phone chimes with an alert for an online appointment. “Work,” she sighs, but she leaves it at that, they likely don’t wish to hear her be customer service rep for her one-woman small business. “You two catch up if you like, but I need to get going.” 

“Okay,” Hashirama says, and she leans over to place a kiss on his forehead as she stands. “Love you,” he says. 

They’re nearly eye level with Hashirama seated and her on her feet, and she likes that she can catch his honey rich eyes with her own as she smiles and says “Love you too.” 

When she leaves, Madara is back in the kitchen and Kagami is swamped at the till, so she makes her way through the crowd of local college students and leaves without any fanfare. 

<3

It’s dark out by the time she returns home, and Hashirama is curled up under a blanket waiting for her. He’s not really the type to read and it looks like he fell asleep halfway through whatever he was watching. 

She tucks herself under the blanket with him and waits for him to take notice of her weight against his chest. Hashirama is a light sleeper, and within a few minutes she can feel his arms come up to rest around her waist, pulling her tighter and warming her up from the inside. “Hey,” he says. 

“Long day, but it’s calligraphy and it’s freelance, I can’t really have expected anything else.” 

“Wedding order?” He asks, he knows her well. 

She sighs and curls up closer, tucking her arms over his own as if to confirm that he’s holding her. “Yeah, wedding order. It was nice to see Tobirama today.” 

“Yeah, we should go back again next Saturday, neither Tobirama nor Madara were convinced they should come see our new house and garden in this weather.” 

“Shame, you are usually very convincing,” Mito says. “You convinced me to move in with you and allow you to renovate the place to have an attached greenhouse.” 

“I am, I did,” he says sleepily. 

Mito knows that if they stay like this on the couch, it will be doing them no favours tomorrow. “Off to bed love, we can go back next Saturday if you like.” 

“I would like,” Hashirama mumbles. “You are my favourite Mito.” 

It’s probably a comical sight, Hashirama’s arm resting across her delicate shoulders as she leads him down the hall, but she’s never minded, despite his original trepidation, even Hashirama has come to learn that Mito is not fragile. She hums half a song under her breath as she gets them both tucked safely into bed, her reply is soft and sleepy and she’s not sure if he’s awake enough to that he’ll notice, but she says it anyway; “and you are mine.” 

<3

Wedding commissions are always a lot of work. Mito cuts paper and crafts little cards with good quality tools, and her practice with pen and ink makes the work flow faster. By the time Saturday rolls around again, she’s tired and she thinks about skipping out on meeting up with Tobirama even if she enjoys his company. Hashirama however was not made to stay indoors and even if they drive to the parking spot nearby the coffee shop, there’s still some walking required. It’s grey overhead instead of bright, but it’s slightly warmer than last week in what she hopes could be the start of a warm streak. At least the wind doesn’t chase them in the door, which is probably the best she can hope for at this time of year.

<3

It’s the first Saturday of the month and the menu has changed just slightly again. Madara is not manning the counter this time, but she doesn’t actually recognize the grumpy youth that is. She asks for a cider this time and sends Hashirama along to find a table. Tobirama appears to be slightly late, but they know where he usually sits.

“Did you ask him what time he would be here?” Mito asks when she joins him with their drinks. 

“Why would I ask?” Hashirama says, taking his cup and blowing over the hot liquid with enthusiasm. “He’s here every Saturday.” 

“Fair enough,” she says. If he doesn’t show, it’s just an early morning coffee date for her.

“Do you think I should ask next time?” Hashirama continues. “I’ve always thought it might scare him off if he had to admit that he is meeting up with us.” 

Mito thinks about what she knows about Tobirama, and his oddities as a creature of habit, and it is habitual, it’s just that he seems to prefer his habits to be unspoken most of the time. “You know him better than I do, so you are probably right.” 

As the lunch hour begins to approach, she begins to contemplate the food menu and possibly another drink. She’s half-way between deciding between the house soup and the house salad when Tobirama slides into the seat across from them. 

“You’re early,” he says. 

“You’re late!” Hashirama accuses. The two stare at each other unblinkingly well Mito sips quietly at the last of her cider and decides not to interfere. Hashirama is louder, but Tobirama can usually outlast him. 

“It’s almost lunch already,” Hashirama says, “I think I’m going to order real food, what held you up?” 

“I have stuff to do after, and I didn’t want to wait around here all day.” Tobirama shrugs. 

“—but you are always here early!”

Tobirama’s words are pragmatic but not elaborating, “not always.” 

The staring continues as Mito decides it’s actually the soup she wants and makes her wishes known. “Well, since it’s almost lunch I think I’m going to order a bowl of the house soup. Is the bowl a lot bigger than the cup?” 

Tobirama leans a little out of his seat to check the line, and Mito’s attention is drawn to the fact that the line is much busier than it usually is. “Wait ten minutes it will die down.” 

Sure enough, the line dwindles until Hashirama offers to get them each a bowl of soup since she got the drinks. “Do you want anything Tobi?” He asks, more casual as they both seemed to have relaxed again. 

Tobirama just waves him off with an “I’m fine,” despite not having ordered anything yet at all. 

Even though the majority of the crowd is gone, the line is still steady. 

“Hey Tobirama!” She hears as Kagami makes his way to the back, “just starting my shift. Have you eaten yet?” 

“Just got here,” Tobirama says, it’s to the point and yet Kagami calls back with a casual “‘Kay!” 

The mystery is explained a few minutes later when Madara himself emerges from the kitchen. The work apron is missing, his hair is tied up in a messy half bun, and he’s got a plate in each hand. 

He sticks the plates down on the table and disappears again momentarily, returning with two glasses of water. He takes the spot that’s open next to Tobirama and slides one of the plates over. 

It's some sort of club sandwich and Tobirama is inspecting it with suspicion. “There’s no pickles on that one,” Madara says as Tobirama shrugs and appears to take his word. Mito’s not sure if he can tell without eating it but he at least trusts whatever Madara is saying to be true, because he stops poking at it. 

“No coffee?” He asks instead. 

Madara shrugs, “I’m not feeding your addiction, that you need to order yourself.” 

Tobirama lightly pushes his shoulder into Madara’s in protest, and Mito knows how much Tobirama loves coffee, so she’s surprised when he lets it go so easily and pulls one of the glasses of water over to his person. 

Hashirama returns with two bowls of soup and Mito picks at the bread roll that comes with it while she waits for it to cool. 

“So when are you guys coming to see the greenhouse?” Hashirama asks, probably for the umpteenth time. 

Tobirama shoots him a look. “You live on the other side of town.” 

“And?” Hashirama drawls. 

“I don’t drive, and in case you haven’t noticed it’s freezing out,” Tobirama replies. 

Hashirama shrugs, taking a bite of his own bread roll and attempting to speak around it to which Mito bumps his shin with her foot under the table and reminds him to chew first, then talk. 

“Madara drives!” He blurts out as soon as he’s managed to swallow. 

“Yes, and?” Tobirama asks again, he’s grinning though, subtle as it may be, and Madara is looking slightly more interested as his name is mentioned. 

“So” he says, matching the same drawn-out tone that Tobirama just used. “Get him to drive you.” 

“He’s busy,” Tobirama deadpans, his grin turning into a smirk. 

“You don’t know that, you didn’t ask him!” 

“He,” Madara cuts in, “is right here.” 

Mito wants to bury her head in her hands and question how three incredibly intelligent men can turn into toddlers based on proximity to each other alone. 

“Can you drive Tobirama over to our place later to see the greenhouse.” 

Madara shakes his head, all of the hair that has escaped his bun swings with the motion. “Can’t sorry.”

“Why not?” Hashirama absolutely whines, and it's unbecoming, and so she kicks him lightly once again under the table. 

“I’m…” Madara pauses, and in a dramatic gesture he waits until even Tobirama has perked up with interest before he continues with “ _busy.”_

Mito feels the urge to interrupt before the childish display goes on any further. “Perhaps another time then, when it warms up.” 

“We can have a fire in the backyard to stay warm,” Hashirama offers, and Mito approves, because it’s not blatant whining but it’s still an enticing offer. 

“He’s _busy,”_ Tobirama emphasizes before Madara can change his mind. He appears to think about it for a moment as Hashirama pouts. Mito pats his shoulder gently, sliding his long brunette hair behind his ear in a soothing gesture. 

“You’ll come over when it’s warm enough to take the bus or if Madara offers to pick you up,” Mito says, and by her tone they all know it’s final. 

“In a few weeks, after a shift,” Madara muses. 

Tobirama nods, “when it warms up.” 

Hashirama smiles then, and Mito knows that the dramatics were mostly just crocodile tears but at the same time she would like them to just for once, act their age, so she lets it slide. 

When lunch is finished, Hashirama gathers up their jackets and hats and Madara heads back to the kitchen to find his coat. Tobirama offers to wait for him while they go on ahead and Hashirama holds his hand out to her, big green knit mittens and all. 

<3

The snow is falling again when they leave, their departure noisily marked by the sound of the door wind chimes. It’s a short walk, but it’s mild enough to meander a little. 

“So,” Hashirama muses. “Do you think they would like a party? Or do they think we don’t know…” 

“What don’t we know?” Mito asks. Sometimes it seems like Hashirama is guided by a blessed intuition that causes him to leap to conclusions that are more often correct than they are wrong. 

His hand reaches up to wrap his arm around her shoulder again, holding hands is a little too awkward with the height difference. “That they’re dating.” 

“Wait,” Mito says, her feet stopping in their path. “They’re together?” 

He turns to face her as she stops, and Mito thinks a little about it. Hashirama knows those two better than her by far. He has a long complicated history with Madara when they were children, and Tobirama is the brother that’s closest in age and in spirit. 

“For a while now I think,” Hashirama shrugs. “Madara brings Tobirama food and is allowed to thwart his coffee drinking mania.” 

“They could just be really good friends,” She says but the argument sounds a little weak in the face of Hashirama’s evidence. 

“Tobirama accepts the food and also allows Madara to thwart his coffee drinking mania,” he reiterates in deadpan. As if it’s so obvious to him that he can’t believe she missed it, and now that she thinks about it, _really_ thinks about it, he’s probably right. 

There’s the small expressions, and the food and the way that Tobirama doesn’t bristle at all when Madara slides in beside him casually, as if he’s done it a hundred times, but they still could almost just be friends. Except for that time when Tobirama went on an honest-to-god date and never told them who it was and his insistence that Madara was in fact busy despite staying behind to wait for him and not rushing off to get out of his hair. 

“Fuck,” she sighs. “They’re dating.” 

“So, do we throw them a party?” Hashirama asks, a finger tapping lightly against his chin as he tries to think. Hashirama would want a party, she knows, but Tobirama is not his brother and she can’t think of any way that he would react to a party aside from mortification and embarrassment. Then there’s likely to be Madara’s anger to deal with if they are in fact dating, and they embarrass Tobirama in front of him and he acts badly. It’s a terrible disaster of a plan.

“Hashirama,” she says, her tone sobering. “We can’t let them know we know.”

Hahsirama nods, but he waits for her, patience being a great number of his total virtues. 

“If we throw them a party and they are truly together and they aren’t ready to tell us, it could end badly. They might actually break up, and if they aren't together, you have to think about the fact that Tobirama is dating somebody, and if it turns out not to be Madara and we throw a party for it… well…” 

“Total disaster,” He almost whispers conspiratorially. “Mito, I understand, we need to keep it a secret.” 

“Until they are ready to tell us,” She replies, and she knows that if they don’t say something, eventually one of them will give her an opportunity to ask in a much subtler way than throwing them a party and hoping for the best. 

“Okay,” Hashirama nods. “Mito?” 

“Yes Hashirama?” She asks, she resumes walking and lifts his arm back across her shoulders, her arm layer across her chest to tuck her hand on top of his. The street is mostly empty of pedestrians so they can take up the whole sidewalk if they like. 

“Would you want a party to tell everyone that we’re together?” He asks. “Like if nobody knew, I mean, everyone already knows.” 

She hums a low note, “Well, if they didn’t know, then sure, I wouldn’t mind a party, but only because it would make you happy and I like it when you are happy.” 

He nods and whispers “Thank you,” so low, she can barely hear it, but she squeezes his hand to let him know that she fought his sentiment, and she’s here with him too. 

<3

The wedding order has been sent to her months in advance, the family is affluent and wants each note to be custom. Hashirama finds her as she’s cutting the paper in her study. 

“I didn’t realize that you kept that,” Hashirama says, and she has to look up to see him reaching out to the little framed card on the wall. It’s a valentine that he made for her the very first year they were together. He had drawn in a little coral pearl in an oyster shell, and written out in his best handwriting the message _‘The world is your oyster, and I hope I am always a part of it. Happy Valentines_.’

He smiles fondly before he turns back to her and she’s about to tell him how she framed it to make sure it wouldn’t lose the glitter he had glued on in streaks by hand when he derails her thoughts by asking “How are you?” 

“Is it the weekend yet?” She asks, and although her back is turned to him, she can still hear the smile in his answering tone. 

“You always ask that when you have a wedding order.”

She sighs, “I have a lot of wedding orders, moving shop online helped, no reason I can’t get all of them done, it’s just that it’s the same card over and over. The same paper and sizes and pressed flowers and writing that goes on forever. If we get married, we are having no more than twenty guests, if only because I refuse to write more than twenty invitations.” 

He chuckles outright at that, “That would make them limited edition I think. Are you pressing your own paper too?” 

“I am, sort of, I did it up months ago, but I did make it myself, see how the lavender swirls shine in the light? Apparently the dress has a lavender bow,” Mito clicks her tongue, “I bet the bridesmaids are thrilled, after all very few people look good in lavender.” 

“You do,” Hashirama says, “Of course with all that red hair, no one would dream of asking you to wear pink.” 

“Heavens no,” she smiles. “If it’s not the weekend yet, I need to still be working, at least answering all my work emails, did you have something you needed?” 

“Mhmm. I wanted to borrow a scrap of paper, a nice one, to make a card.” 

She turns to face him then, as he usually has little interest in making his own cards, instead asking her. “Who are you making this card for?” 

“Why our good friends Madara and Tobirama of course,” and his expression has turned from cheerful to downright glee. “One can never know when they will decide to disclose their relationship and I will say that contrary to what Tobi believes, it does take effort to be at my level of maximum embarrassment.” 

She hums thoughtfully, yes of course she loves Tobirama, but in this case, perhaps his lack of disclosure and lack of discretion ought to bite him in the ass anyway. After all, he promised to tell them months ago if it went anywhere. 

“Go ahead,” she finally agrees, “I have the extra paper to spare, I just don’t have any extra petals. My older pens are on the side table, help yourself.” 

“I’m sure that in this case, a lack of dried petals won’t be an issue,” Hashirama says as he rifles though her cardstock for some of the smaller pieces that end up shifted to the bottom. “I can make a doodle.” 

“Yes you can, and I’d love to see it later, when I am done for the night.” 

“I’ll get out of your hair then,” and before he leaves he presses a kiss to her cheekbone, a dry brush of lips that warms her soul. “It’s my night to make dinner.”

“Make it good!” She calls to his retreating back as he makes his way back out. From here she decides to cut the rest of the paper she’s working with and hopefully by then the smell of dinner will be drifting down the hall. It’s really only a few more…

<3

As it turns out, the weekend is right around the corner with Saturday finding her packed up to drive into the city with Hashirama in tow. He’s shown her his little card that he’s keeping in his pocket just in case Tobirama and Madara decide to clear up what exactly is going on. It’s only a tiny thing, A single slip of velum glued over her handmade cardstock. The drawings at the top include a little red and white Uchiha fan (the same one that is carved into the cafe sign) to represent Madara, and a little misshapen snowflake that she has been assured is Tobirama. “Because he’s so frosty _and_ fluffy.” 

The front of the shop is still dressed for winter, even though the snow is just beginning to turn to messy slush and the sidewalk shows the wear of the gravel and sand that it’s worn all winter. It’s not pretty _yet,_ but there’s something in the air that promises a little warmth and fresh life around the corner where the cold snap only offered isolation and an urge to hide indoors. 

Kagami is working the front today, and the bells chime prettily as they make their way in. It’s her turn to carry the drinks; Hashirama picks the cider and she decides on tea. Kagami packs up the pot and Hashirama’s drink on a tray and adds a couple miniature croissants “from the kitchen” which she takes to mean that they are an offering from Madara. 

Tobirama is talking when she arrives at the table, sliding the tray down. “—the research possibilities behind it are pretty good, the human spine is more concrete than the human brain in terms of what we can do with it. Hello Mito.” 

“Don’t let me interrupt,” she says, placing her tea in front of her. The cup appears to have its own strainer just beneath the porcelain lid, it’s a nice touch. 

Hashirama is blowing on his cider to cool it, and from experience she knows it is piping hot, “Oh no, please do. I was getting slightly lost.” 

“You don’t know a dorsal root ganglia from a vertebrae do you?” He asks dryly. 

Hashirama smiles with teeth. “Ones a bone, the other is a nerve, beyond that I haven’t got a clue.” 

“Just us today?” Mito changes the subject out of curiosity. 

Tobirama turns to face her, “Madara will join when he’s done, and I invited Touka, she’s in town.” 

“Any word on how her road trip worked out?” Mito asks, curious as to whom Touka thought could keep up with her. 

Tobirama shrugs, “no, but I haven’t asked, also have they ever worked out?” 

The question is hypothetical and Mito sighs, “Yes, I suppose if it didn’t work out we may all be in trouble if we asked.” 

The bell chimes again and they all simultaneously turn to look at the door, Tobirama’s head lilting as he catches the sound. It’s not Touka, and they breathe a collective sigh of relief. 

“Let’s not ask her if she shows up,” Hashirama ventures. “I should think if it went well, she might volunteer the information herself.” 

<3

Touka indeed does show up, a little later than Madara gets off shift, and on her heels is somebody Mito recognizes more from photographs than experience. 

“Madara- you invited your brother?!” Hashirama cries, and it's loud enough that Touka waves from where she is, and Izuna turns to look. Mito offers a casual wave as they make their way into the lineup and helps pull up a couple extra chairs when they reach the table. 

There’s a flurry of movement as drinks are shuffled around the table; too small for the amount of dishes they have. Coats are passed up and bags hung on chair backs. Madara gathers up the food dishes and makes his way back to the kitchen. Mito knows from experience that he is likely to come back bearing some kind of food for the table. 

“Did you get lost?” Tobirama asks. 

“No!” Izuna huffs, crossing his arms and taking offence. 

Touka laughs. “I did, luckily this big lug offered to help me find the Hearth and Crow Cafe.” 

“Hearth and… crow?” Tobirama asks, momentarily puzzled. 

“Uh,” Hashirama starts, “You are here every week, and you don’t know what it’s called?” 

“I thought it was just ‘Uchiha,’” Tobirama shrugs. “the coats and aprons just have the fan.” They have the writing too, but Mito assumes it's too small for him to read or he would know the name already.

“No,”Madara says, and he has indeed returned with a plate of cookies as she predicted. “That’s just the family name, if you were trying to use gps to get you here you’d have to put the full name in.” 

“Oh yeah,” Hashirama says, hands clapping together. “I guess I gave you directions the first time.” 

“Still getting yourself lost Tobirama? Need your big brother to help you out?” Izuna asks. 

Tobirama hisses “One. Time.” 

“Oh please,” Touka rolls her eyes. “Like yours never helped you out.” 

“She’s got you there Izuna,” Madara smiles faintly; melancholic if Mito were to guess. 

Touka, for all of her differences to Hashirama, lights up exactly the same way with glee, eyes dancing with a small offering of madness and a smile that has _bite_. “Do tell!” 

“Hey,” Izuna protests. “Don’t tell.” 

Madara huffs as if it is a hardship, and Mito wonders if he’s always been so expressive or lately she’s just learned how to read him a little better. “Your secrets are safe with me.” 

“Can I perhaps bribe you with this…” Tobirama trails off, searching his pockets. “This mint.” 

“Never mind, Izuna’s secrets, sold to the highest bidder.” Madara declares as he takes the mint from Tobirama’s hands and slides it into his pocket. 

“Well that’s completely unfair, how ever can I compete with a mint,” Izuna rolls his eyes. 

“A not too embarrassing story,” Madara offers. “Of the time Izuna missed the train out partying and I had to go get him from the other end of town.” 

“Awe,” Touka coos, poking at Izuna’s shoulder. 

Mito sips at her tea. “That doesn’t seem so bad.” 

“Well,” Madara continues. “When I arrived, it seemed that Izuna, inebriated as he was, had seen fit to strip his clothing on the hot summer night and was wearing nothing but his boxers and perhaps a package of pop rocks in his hair.” 

There’s a thud as Izuna’s head hits the table, “You are dead to me.” 

“Well worth the price,” Tobirama grins quietly. 

“It’s only a good price if I don’t have dirt on you too, which I do.” Izuna offers in a low begrudging tone that Mito needs to strain her ears to hear, and then louder he offers. “Would you all like to hear the story of how Madara fell out of a kayak and into the family pond trying to get out?” 

“That _thing_ is a death trap! You can’t tell me otherwise!”

Izuna’s grin is wicked, “you had duckweed in your hair—for a week!” 

There aren’t very many better ways, Mito thinks to herself, to spend a weekend afternoon than with good food and good company.

<3

It comes to follow that Tobirama declares that their coffee habit is completely out of hand when for the following three weeks they all end up crashing his table. 

Mito is feeling delightfully less stressed having boxed up all of the cards that were on order and shipped them out with time to spare. The next order hasn’t rolled in yet, but she knows she will be swamped come spring when the wedding season bursts into full bloom. 

Hashirama comes along with characteristic good cheer and a small handmade card burning a hole in his pocket. Each week he professes to her as they leave that “today is the day” but Tobirama and Madara remain both tight lipped and unconfirmed despite last week when Hashirama spent twenty minutes staring at where their hands likely were clasped beneath the table.

“The weather is much better next week, so I declare that next week you guys should _all_ come back to see the greenhouse,” Hashirama decides, loudly. 

“I don’t know, I don’t have a car,” Izuna says. 

“Madara could drive you, or Mito, or wait…”Hashirama pouts dramatically and asks “How did you get here then? Where do you live?”

Mito’s small car has the back seats down for carting packages and plants and whatever else Hashirama feels the need to bring home from the University that is too heavy to take the bus with, she could still put them up, but the car is unfortunately still a mess of mud and dirt in the back, even with a drop cloth. 

“I… walked,” Izuna says, slightly uncomfortable. 

Madara levels him flatly over his hot chocolate. “Walked? You walked from your flat near the school where you work?” 

“Yes?” He asks, and it's phrased like a question, he pales just slightly under the weight of Madara’s stare. 

Tobriama smirks and even Mito can predict that his next words are going to be vicious, probably in the spirit of the ongoing rivalry she’s seen hints of for weeks. She still can’t decide if it’s them stepping into their past school experiences, or a direct competition for Madara’s attention. Hashirama insists that it is simply _proximity_ based.

“So is it a long distance to the Cafe? Or do you know how to properly measure the distance from the door of the shop to the door of Touka’s car?” 

The table falls mostly silent as Izuna and Touka sit shell shocked and Tobirama seems to register what he’s said.

“Tobi,” Touka says, and it’s telling the way that she reaches over to clutch onto Izuna’s black hoodie, her hand curling around his elbow where his hands are propped on the table. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

There’s a moment where Mito can observe as everyone else seems to shift with the mood. Madara passes Izuna a sweet cake and receives a quiet “thank you.” Touka shoots a glare at Tobirama, who looks a little downcast as Madara bumps shoulders with him and startles him nearly into talking again—

“Oh that’s _so_ unfair,” Hashirama interrupts.

Mito comes back to full alert as her brain lurches forward from the revelation that Izuna and Touka came here together, and probably have been coming together for weeks, to the alarm bells that tells her Hashirama is about to say something with _consequences._

She isn’t on time to kick him under the table before he opens his mouth, his voice louder in contrast to the silence of the table. His voice is pure complaint and protest, “I don’t have a card for that.” 

“A card?” Madara asks, turning his attention away from Izuna. 

Mito can only stare in mortification as he produces that card that he always slips into his pocket when they meet on Saturday, all paper made from her workshop and doodles in his hand. It’s downright incriminating that she was _involved_ , and she watches his hands flip the card up on the table as the eldest Senju brother finishes what the younger started and mortifies the remainder of their friends and family. 

“Oh yes,” Hashirama smiles as Mito presses her hands to her face, fingers spayed as to peek at the impending carnage. “I made this card to congratulate you and Tobirama on your relationship! Isn’t it great Madara?” 

“You… what?” Tobirama asks, as Madara reaches across the table to pluck the card from Hashirama’s fingers. “You knew?” 

“Well, Touka and Izuna were a surprise,” Mito says softly.

“It was so obvious,” Hashirama claps his hands. 

Tobirama crosses his arms and huffs a little. His lips turn out in an identical pout to the one Hashirama usually puts on when Mito tells him not to bother them about coming back to visit his bonsai collection. 

“Well,” says Madara, “We weren’t exactly trying to hide it.” 

“—and,” Touka adds, “I was there when Tobirama finally bought a second chair.” 

“You bought a _second chair?_ ” Hashirama demands, “and you didn’t tell me? Why haven’t I seen it?” 

“I did not buy a chair for you- or guests!” Tobriama insists, nose turned up at the idea. “I bought it for Madara.” 

“How cute,” Izuna adds and it’s mocking. 

“How was the road trip?” Tobriama snipes back, but this time Izuna just grins widely and quips back “fantastic, made the acquaintance of all sorts of furniture on our way out hot spring hopping. You only own two chairs?” 

“One chair,” Tobirama laments, and Mito gives up on having a foothold on this conversation for now; let the chips fall where they may. “ I own one chair, the other one is Madara’s.” 

“How can you tell?” Touka smirks. “Do they look the same or is it special?” 

“Oh,” Madara smiles. He takes a sip of the hot chocolate in front of him and welcomes the table to hang on his dramatic pause. “He carved my name into it.” 

“Well, you needed to know where to sit!” Tobriama’s voice is slightly higher than it usually is. 

“Do I?” Madara adds casually, unconcerned though Tobirama’s eyes shoot daggers at him. He even lazily stretches out an arm to rest over the back of Tobirama’s current seating arrangement. 

Izuna guffaws and wheezes in amusement and slams a hand down on the table, threatening to fall out of his chair. Touka grabs him by his jacket and easily manhandles him back up, and Mito wonders how exactly she missed _that._

“Do you know what the only thing that could possibly make this day better would be?” Hashirama asks, and Mito already _knows_ the words before he says them. “If you guys all come back to my greenhouse, we can tour the bonsai and also have a fire pit gathering.” 

“Ugh,” Izuna says, but he’s smirking faintly. “Why not? It’s not like we can have any more revelations today. We’re already here, and Touka can be my ride.” 

Tobirama and Madara share a glance before they turn back to Hashirama and nod. “It is much warmer now, and I’m sure Madara doesn’t mind driving me.”

“I don’t,” Madara says, “Mind, that is.” 

<3

They split off into their respective vehicles and Mito takes the wheel this time. “I should call Itama too, he might be free.” 

“He’s married to his pager, but if you’re making it a party, better call Kawarama to pick him up, it can be a whole Senju family reunion,” she says, “with plus ones for those that have them.” 

“I don’t know how you expect Itama to bring his work to the gathering, but his pager probably counts,” he replies. 

Hashirama then turns down the radio as he makes the calls and assures her that they will be on their way. “It’s so impromptu though, we won’t have enough food.” 

“There’s marshmallows and roasting sticks in the cupboard for entertainment, but you’re right that we will want dinner at some point. There’s still liquor in the cupboard if people want to stay or aren’t driving, but I’m not sure if anyone drinks or wants to be the designated driver.” 

“It was always Madara when we were young. But Tobirama and Izuna wouldn’t have been old enough to drink… and Touka was usually passed out in the back,” Hashirana grins at the memory, and it’s very cute.

“Speaking of, I didn’t think Izuna and Touka even knew each other, let alone well enough to go on a road trip,” Mito says. 

“Hmm, yeah that’s a good point, although the road trip for Touka _is_ a first date,” Hashirama sighs and changes the subject. “I’m glad Madara liked my card, I mean, they both put up a bit of a fuss, but also he kept it, so that means he likes it.” 

“The timing was awful, but the card was very sweet,” Mito concludes. “Just like you.” 

“Why thank you,” he grins, and turns up the radio as the song switches to something upbeat and he hums along with it. She has a moment to glance over at a red light and enjoy the sunlight reflecting the copper in his dark hair, and the barely there freckles that cover his nose. Just a moment to appreciate the warmth of his smile and the care behind his intentions. It’s long enough for the love to settle in her bones and make a home. 

<3

Tobriama ends up ordering pizza. “Yes, I do want the apple cubes and ham slices on the same pizza, and I am aware that it’s kind of strange, can you please outline how strange it is in sharpie right on the box? My brother thinks he’s perfectly normal and I need him to know that you, a professional in the pizza industry, think that he is perfectly _wrong.”_

That’s the story behind how the six boxes of pizza arrive with labels handwritten on sharpie. Each one bearing the message of “O.K.” Except for the box that Tobirama hands to his brother. That particular box bears the message “Not O.K.” And Tobriama hands it off with a smirk and an “I told you so.” 

Kawarama and Itama do indeed make it over, and in the typical fashion of Hashirama’s little brothers, even bring a misshapen wreath as a housewarming gift. Handmade gifts seem to hold a particular appeal to the Senju brothers, even Tobirama gets in on the tradition, offering a simple lucky bamboo plant that he claims Madara helped him pot. 

Hashirama cries loudly over it and moves to write it a tiny name plaque, calling it “Lucky Tobi” to Tobirama’s embarrassment. 

Of course the house tour comes with an introduction to each one of Hashirama’s creatively named bonsai and Mito’s tomato vines. 

Madara even has the gall to ask her what she named them, and she delights in telling him “tomato vines one-through-six, not every plant needs a creative name.” 

“Very sensible names,” he comments soberly, to which Tobirama pats his shoulder in approval and earns the eldest Uchiha one of her small baskets of grape tomatoes. 

Itama is more subdued than the rest in offering them congratulations, but he does offer to help Izuna get the fire started, and hasn’t left the party just yet, so she supposed that he’s making an exception to his early bedtime for them, and that’s love too. 

<3

The fire pit is warm and cozy and Kawarama uses his endless energy to drag all sorts of odd chairs from the kitchen and even the bedroom vanity and the bar outside for everyone to have a seat. “I suppose our next venture is patio furniture, but we just haven’t been here long enough yet,” Mito says as she settles into one of her regular kitchen chairs. 

“Well, thank god we aren’t at Tobirama’s place then, only one chair,” Kawarama pipes up from where he’s attempting to load more marshmallows on his stick than anyone else. 

Touka gives up at five, “Two chairs now.” 

Itama, who is the closest in personality to Tobriama, dryly offers “my condolences.” A gesture that earns Izuna’s approval, especially since he’s cracked a couple beers and lamenting over subjects such as “these are the most delicious marshmallows to have ever mellowed,” and “Touka has the most beautiful arms, so strong, they could crush a man.” 

The fire flickers and the drinks are passed in the warmth of the night, snow melting to slush beneath their feet, snippets of conversation travel between them, words weaving around and over each other as they take interest in each other’s commentary. 

“Oh, everyone, I did make one more card!” Hashirama declares, and Mito does remember that there was more paper borrowed than cards made. 

“I hope it’s ‘for Touka and Izuna, best wishes, love Hashirama,’” Tobriama comments. 

“Is that what yours says?” Touka asks. “How _sweet_ ,” she continues, and her words don't match the saccharine way she says the sediment ‘sweet’. 

Before he can snipe her the next word, Hashirama declares, “it’s for Mito, and I was saving it for later, but…” 

He holds the card in his hand, having retrieved it from his jacket pocket, and he gets down on one knee, the reflection of the fire makes his skin glow with oranges and reds. Her hand is caught by his as she holds her breath, wondering. 

“Mito, you have made our house a home, and I want to live in it forever with you, will you be my wife?” 

He places the card in her hands. There’s a doodle of a heart, and a note that reads ‘ _The World is Still Your Oyster’_ in Hashirama’s best handwriting. It’s unsaid that he’s still here, just wanting to share in it with her. 

Sewn to the heart with careful stitches in the paper is a ring in white gold with a little pearl at the center. The pearl shines with a soft coral and reminds her of another card from a Valentine’s Day, so long ago. 

Mito is a whirlpool by nature, a wildfire by appearance and a calligrapher by trade, so of course she always has a pen in her pocket. She smiles and accepts the card as everyone around them holds their breath. The pen in her hands she uses to scratch out the ‘Y’ in ‘your’. She puts her pen back and reaches down to grasp Hashirama's hands and pull him back up to his full height with only a thought. She breathes in and he breathes out and she laughs, hearty and full. 

“The world is _our_ oyster,” She says loudly, and then softer as she adds “and yes, I would love to marry you.” 

He kisses her hotly to the sound of their friends and family whooping and clapping and in the case of Touka, wolf-whistling _loudly._

Madara bumps Tobirama’s shoulder with his in a move even Mito recognizes as a ‘told you so.’

Hashirama quickly realizes he may have sewn the ring on a little too tight and they leave their friends at the fire to find a cardstock knife to remove it. 

He places the ring on her finger in her study and they find a moment to celebrate, however brief. 

“Now that I’ve successfully invited all of our friends over, I feel it would be wrong to kick them all out,” Hashirama smiles against her lips. “Of course, if you feel I’m doing you a disservice by not removing them from the premises for me to ravish you as my wife-to-be, you are welcome to file a complaint.” 

“After all this time you’ve waited to introduce them to each and every bonzai in your collection? I feel like you can wait another hour or two before you introduce me to our soon-to-be-marital bed.” 

“Tease,” he declares, and he offers her kisses along her jawline as if to offer her a taste of what he will do for her later. 

“I am a tease,” she agrees, “you’ll find out soon after the honeymoon that you married a tease, however will you cope?” 

“With the knowledge that I married the very best tease,” he jokes, “and the very best woman I have ever known.”

“Damn straight” She agrees. 

“Madara gets to be the best man,” Hashirama also adds. 

“Over your brother?” She asks, resigning herself to the disaster potential the actual planning of the wedding will be. 

“Oh, no, I was thinking you would want to claim him for your own Maid of Honor,” Hashirama says, and it’s true that Tobirama is probably the person in fire country to whom she is closest and she lacks the amount of siblings that Hashirama has, although he’s taken a ‘what’s yours is mine’ approach with most family matters. She smiles, “Done.” 

“Now let's go and see if Izuna has managed to set anyone on fire yet,” Hashirama kisses her one last time as he takes her arm in his and makes out to follow her lead. 

“Hashirama, I look forward to babysitting our friends together for the rest of our lives,” She says sincerely. Hashirama beams at her with his radiant smile and squeezes where his arm cradles her smaller one with his free hand. In his tactile gift giving language of love, she knows it’s because she used the word ‘ _our’_ and she smiles too, just as radiant, just as beautiful and as happy as she was when he gave her the first handmade card all those years ago. 

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, this story was determined to be sweet and heartfelt despite all my efforts, but you can enjoy my original idea for it right here:  
>  _  
> Hashirama is certain that Tobirama is lying about dating someone so that he can be antisocial and he’s decided to roll with it. That his whole family is pretending it’s Madara is just one huge joke, right?  
>  “Oh that’s so funny Tobi, your second chair has Madara’s name carved into it.” -H “yeah I got that so he would come over. And fuck me. Because we’re dating.”-T  
> “Oh that’s so cute, why of course you are.” -H_


End file.
